


Story of Their Lives

by msqjoe



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 06:34:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12882198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msqjoe/pseuds/msqjoe
Summary: Nadine has a bad feeling about all of this, but the partner by her side makes it all worth it.





	Story of Their Lives

Bumping along a dirt road, grit in her teeth and nose, hair whipping in her face and Chloe whooping beside her had never been Nadine’s idea of a good time. At no point in time had she fantasized about this and thought to herself “this, this is what living should be like”. Funny, then, that she can’t stop smiling and that’s what’s grinding the jungle dirt into her teeth and she feels her own laughter bubbling up. Maybe they’re about to crash and die, go right over the edge of a cliff that she can’t see through the dense foliage as they make their own road through the undergrowth, but if that’s the case, then she’s pretty sure that she can die happy. 

Some oil baron’s henchmen are on their tail, bullets flying, tearing up the jungle right behind them, but Chloe got the dagger from the priestess’ grave.  _ They _ have it, which means that they can find her consort’s shrine and get the promised gold buried there. One trail of clues leads to another, then another and another; story of their lives. 

-0-

As it turns out, they don’t die. Not even close. Instead, they make it back to their room with the dagger -- bodies and minds intact; although, they won’t be getting their deposit on the jeep back. Bullet holes don’t buff out and some of the varying kinds of mud that they drove through, frankly, will never wash out of the upholstery. 

Chloe comes out of their motel shower, still steaming and wringing the water from her hair with a threadbare towel. It’s not that they don’t have money, it’s that they have better things to spend their money on than luxury hotels -- like guns and ammo and climbing harnesses and, occasionally, bribes or bail. She throws herself down on the bed beside Nadine, making the cheap springs squeak and jostling Nadine as she throws a couple of stitches into the knife wound she’d picked up along the way. Nadine rolls her eyes to the ceiling and breathes out through her nose against the pain. 

“Go get cleaned up. I’m not sharing a bed with you when you have an exoskeleton made of mud.” Chloe pulls a leaf out of Nadine’s hair and tosses it to the floor. She drags out a bottle of lotion and starts rubbing it on her legs. “Is that even sanitary? Stitching up your wound like that…”

“Don’t throw shit on the floor like that. People have to clean these rooms.” Nadine uses a roll of gauze to cover her stitches, puts the leaf in the garbage and heads to the bathroom. Twenty minutes later it’s Nadine’s turn to collapse on the bed, drip drying and squeaky clean on the scratchy comforter. 

“Take a look at this,” Chloe turns her ragged, mud-and-blood stained notepad to face Nadine and points to her chicken scratch translation of the text they found punched into the dagger’s sheath. Nadine props herself up on one elbow and reads. 

“Confirms our theory about a hunk of gold the size of a horse’s head.”

“ _ A golden calf’s head,  _ approximately. Carried on a litter, harvested with this dagger...”  

“Your translation better be good.” 

“Flawless, of course,” Chloe says. She grins ear to ear and tugs Nadine to her feet. “Come on Ross, we’re going drinking.”

“No, no way.” Nadine goes limp against the bed while Chloe tugs at her.

In the morning, Chloe shakes Nadine’s arm -- the injured one, of course -- and claps her hands in excitement. “Up, Ross, let’s go.” 

Nadine groans. “Have you no respect for the dead?”

“I’m a professional graverobber. Of course I don’t.” She stands. “Besides, we aren’t dead yet and we’ve got daylight to burn. Hangovers are no excuse!”

Nadine hates her. 

-0-

It’s not their best work, what with Chloe concussed and and the two of them treed by several angry wild dogs. Nadine is happy to be back home, in South Africa, but this isn’t how she wanted to introduce Chloe to the country. She had wanted to show her the places that she spent her childhood, home from school -- the places with good memories that helped to shape her. Climbing gear is tangled around her waist where she bundled it so that they could outrun their pursuers. She hacks at it with a knife. Chloe has none, since Nadine cut her out of the harness, causing the concussion in the first place. Par for the course, for them. Someone is always concussed or shot, stitched or wrapped in bandages, limping along behind the other, too damn stubborn to stop. Dried blood flakes off of Chloe’s face, where it had been flowing from her scalp, and Nadine isn’t sure if that’s a good sign or not. She watches Chloe sway on her branch and knows that this time, like all of the others, could be the last and… she just  _ can’t _ . Not this time. She fires at the dogs from above and then drops out of the tree to take on the others, fighting for an exit. 

-0-

Warm sunlight spills through the hole they blasted in the roof of temple, glinting off of the slow trickle of water pouring in beside them to fill the carved stone basin in which they find themselves. Before them, a massive hunk of glittering, golden jewel twinkies in the beam same beam of light. It’s easily one of the most beautiful things Nadine’s ever seen. Some of the things they find give off an air of mystery or grandeur or the delicious, heady smell of money, but this is something else. In the pale sunlight that filters down from above, its translucent, yellow globes glow. Carved horns glint, alternating between almost invisible clarity, and a polished, sharp weapon. It  _ feels _ ancient, primordial. Nothing she’s ever encountered before -- no temple or grove or burial chamber -- has ever pulled at her with the sharp fingers of time, made her feel like she’s being dragged back to the era of dinosaurs and giant bugs and air so different from the kind they’re breathing now. 

“So, that isn’t gold.” Nadine says, stating the obvious, for Chloe’s benefit. Just in case. 

“It’s gold _ en _ .” 

“You messed up the translation.” 

“Woah, woah, woah. I never said that.” Chloe doesn’t even bother to sound insulted, ruining Nadine’s fun. 

“You didn’t have to. But you promised me gold and that, that is not gold. That is…”

“It’s a big chunk of amber.” 

“A  _ very _ big chunk.” 

“Can we even lift it?” Chloe asks. Nadine steps forward and lifts it off of the pedestal with a grunt, praying that they were right, that there are no traps waiting to spring and kill them both. 

“This isn’t going to result in some kind of real life Jurassic Park, right?”  
“No mosquito in this one. Just lots and lots of money.” Chloe pats the amber, fond and enamoured. Nadine grunts and stuffs it into her knapsack. 

-0-

Chloe drives -- despite Nadine’s twitchy need to be behind the wheel -- and Nadine sits in the passenger seat, clutching the massive hunk of amber against her chest, wrapped in canvas and duct tape, because it’s what they had after the climb out of the temple and gunfire shredded her bag. This is one of the many times that they spend together, racing to get ahead of other treasure hunters, who always seem to have it out for them. It isn’t lost on Nadine that Chloe has not once left her side on any of their missions, that she is -- despite all of Nadine’s earliest beliefs -- a steadfast companion. Beautiful, clever and utterly loyal are the traits Nadine always wants in an accomplice. Sarcastic, rude and too-clever by half are the traits she didn’t know she wanted, but would miss if she lost Chloe; traits that she didn’t know she wanted in a friend.

“Thank you, Chloe. I--don’t know what I’d do without you.” Nadine’s arm hangs limp at her side, dislocated and bloodied. She couldn’t drive if she wanted to. 

Chloe looks at Nadine, then glances at the chunk of amber in her lap. “You’re such a sap.”   
“Jesus, Fraizer.” Nadine rolls her eyes, moment ruined. “Now your making me _want_ to bleed out.” Chloe steps on the accelerator, grinning.   

-0-

“Ready?”

“Almost,” Nadine says. She pulls her second boot on and tightens the laces stands and pulls her gloves out of the pocket of her parka. Chloe steps into her space, too close, and starts pulling the mitts onto Nadine’s hands. She’s reluctant to leave their hotel room this time -- they used the money from the amber calf well, this time. She wants to luxuriate on the soft cotton sheets and not do anything for a couple of days; she wants to recuperate, relax and maybe explore some of the revelations she’s into over the last few weeks. 

“Reikiavik awaits.”

“Has anyone warned it about you?”

Chloe pretends to offended, making an exaggerated grab at her chest. “You think I’m the troublemaker in this relationship? I think Reikiavik will survive us.” 

“Only one way to find out.” 

When they see the Northern lights for the first time, Chloe tucks her hand through Nadine’s elbow and tugs them closer together. It might be due to the cold. Maybe. Nadine suspects it isn’t. 


End file.
